Keeping Watch
by SunsetJello394
Summary: Fax fluff. Ten years have passed, Max and Fang have graduated college, and now Fang has a question for Max. Also, headlamp.


"But you got to choose the movie last time!" Gazzy's voice carries over the din of arguing bird-young adults.

"It's almost Halloween. Horror movies are, like, a requirement," Gazzy's partner in crime, Iggy, replies impatiently.

"Oh whatever, you just want an excuse to hold me when I get scared," Ella scoffs, but she smiles fondly.

"It's not as if you can actually SEE the scary parts, Ig," Gazzy points out.

Iggy smirks, "That's kind of the point."

Nudge interrupts. "If you guys don't stop squabbling and pick one, I'm going to put in Easy A. Again."

"Nuh-uh, kiddo. I love Emma Stone as much as the next sassy, independent young woman. But there are only so many times in a week you can watch it, chickadee," I let Nudge down gently. One more time, and I might have to spell words worse than "twat" with my peas.

Nudge looks mildly irritated at being called kiddo. "You know, Max," she says, "I think I lost the ability to be called 'kiddo' when I gained the ability to drink legally. You were at the party last month, remember?"

"You love it." I make a face at her and toss a pillow in her direction.

While this familial spat occurs, I notice Angel, now a willowy teenager, putting The DaVinci Code into the tree house's TV/DVD player. I lift an eyebrow at her.

_The book was better, but the movie is still reasonably intelligent,_ Angel projects into my head. She got over her whole power-play phase – what kind of seven-year-old has a POWER-PLAY PHASE? Oh yeah, my Ange – and grew into a brilliant, ambitious young woman. She's going to try to get into all the Ivies, and knowing her, she'll get into every single one of them.

The Flock hit the road to higher education pretty hard once we saved the world and settled down with my mom and Ella in Arizona. Gazzy's in his first year at Berkeley, getting a chemistry degree, and Nudge is in her last year of studying computer science at Columbia University. Fang, Iggy, and I all graduated a couple years ago: Fang got a journalism degree from the University of Missouri, Iggy got a degree in culinary arts from Le Cordon Bleu in San Francisco, and I went to Washington University to earn my degree in social work. The long distance thing with Fang and I wasn't too bad: he was in Columbia and I was in St. Louis, which was less than an hour's flight for me with my super-sonic speed. Fang took a little over an hour when it was his turn to come to St. Louis.

I shrug, indicating she should do whatever she wanted as long as she was prepared to fight with the others about it, and sit back in the beanbag I'll be sharing with Fang if he ever gets out here. He's in the house, getting more blankets for our Flock Sleepover Extravaganza ™. Even though we all have our own beds in Mom's house, there's something viscerally comforting about sleeping in a pile with the Flock again; no matter how far we stray, we're still a family. There are some things you can't share without being bonded for life, and knocking out an evil corporation or two is one of them. We try to make our ways back to Arizona every month or two for this now-tradition. It keeps us close.

Impatiently, I go to twist my promise ring. All I grasp is empty finger; my heart pounds for a second until I remember that Fang took it to get professionally cleaned earlier in the week. Just then, speak of the devil, a shaggy head of black hair pokes up through the trap door.

"A little help here," Fang says. His voice muffled by the stack of blankets in the arm that's not gripping the topmost ladder rung. I grab the stack from him, taking a second to notice how his arm muscles were taut from the effort of holding on. He winks at me.

I push him back down the ladder. And oh, do I cackle.

"Twenty-four, and you're still as evil as you were at fourteen. Or is that immaturity?" Fang calls from the bottom of the trunk. I flash him my saucy grin as he whips his midnight black wings out to trek the seventy feet upwards. He tackles me when he reaches the tree house.

"Fang, I suggest you stop tickling me RIGHT THIS SECOND before I bite you," I threaten as soon as I can breathe through my laughter, a good two minutes later. The rascal acquiesces with a triumphant smile. I wipe it off his face with the whack of a pillow.

Finally, we settle down. Fang and I curl into each other, enjoying being with the Flock and not really paying attention to the movie. My head is tucked under his chin and I breathe him in. Coffee and books. HNNNGGGGG. It's different from how he smelled when we first fell in love (blood and sweat and an omnipresent layer of dirt), but it's better. It doesn't speak of danger and running. It speaks of security and comfort.

I can feel his laugh deep in his chest when Gazzy or Iggy cracks a joke, and I think again of how much things have changed. He's more open, he smiles and laughs more easily, he's clean a larger percentage of the time. But he's still my Fang. I surreptitiously kiss his neck and smile against his skin when I feel his lips on the top of my head.

Two movies, a meal, a bonfire, many marshmallows, and a fireworks show courtesy of Ig and Gazzy later, everybody is asleep in a pile. Iggy and Ella are cocooned in the same bundle of blankets. Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel's sleeping bags are all in a row. Fang and I are burrowed into a bunch of blankets like my sister and her boyfriend, but we lay awake talking. Like, IDK, my BFF Fang?

"Hey, you know what we should do for old time's sake?" Fang whispers in my ear sometime past midnight. His hair, messy from wallering, is soft against my cheek.

I murmur, "Hmm, Mr. Sentimental?"

"Let's go keep watch," he suggests. His voice sounds like he's trying too hard to make the request appear casual. I can hear the underlying wire of nervousness pulled tight, though, and I wonder what's up.

We climb through the window onto the wide branch outside. I clamber to the crook where three branches form a chair-like spot. Fang joins me a moment later.

"You know, all I see out here are trees. Maybe…one raindrop. Not much to keep watch for, hon." I tease, socking him on the shoulder. The side of his mouth quirks up in a classic Fang half-smile.

"I didn't bring you out here for the view, sweetie." Fang's half-smile morphs into a full-out smirk.

I take the hint and bring his face to mine with a hand at the back of his neck.

He draws his head back. "Not that I don't love making out with you, Max, but there'll be plenty of time for that later. Hopefully."

Fang is kind of breathless, which is, okay, WEIRD. My eyebrows draw together in confusion, and I find his eyes in the darkness.

He takes my hand in his, and sticks the other inside of his jacket.

He pulls out a box and opens it one-handed. I see my promise ring, glinting deep blue in the light of the full moon. My heart stops.

Fang takes a deep breath. "You are my best friend. You are my first and only love, and I can't imagine that there is anyone more beautiful on this whole, messed-up planet. We've spent our lives together so far, and I want to keep it that way. Maximum Ride, will you marry me?"

My heart starts again, going into overdrive.

"Of course I will, you knucklehead!" I exclaim. Fang! And me! Getting married! My head swims with possibilities of what lies ahead. Waking up in the same bed. Drinking our coffee in the morning together. Making decisions that will affect the two of us. Having kids. Growing old together, which is _all I ever wanted_. A life of security and guaranteed Fang. MINE!

Fang's gorgeous, beautiful face breaks into the hugest grin I have ever seen him pull as he slides the ring onto my finger. He whoops like he just did a flying backflip. I abandon all thoughts of courtesy for the sleeping Flock and let out a loud, giddy laugh.

"Yes!" Fang shouts triumphantly. "I love you, Max!" I throw my arms around him as he kisses me enthusiastically. After a second I rest my forehead against his just long enough to return the fervent sentiment, then return to his lips.

"Wha's goin' on?" Nudge pokes her head out of the window.

"We're getting married!" Fang shouts. Nudge squeals so loudly that birds fly out of a neighboring tree. We crawl back into the tree house to a Flock cacophony.

"Nudge says you're getting MARRIED!" Ella flings herself at me.

"Yes, it's true," I laugh. The Flock erupts anew. I giggle in a most un-Maxlike manner amidst congratulations, back-thumps between the men, crushing hugs between the girls, and general chaos.

"Wait a second," Nudge commands. "Let me see the ring."

I hold up my hand.

"But that's the same ring you've had for years!" the dark-skinned knockout says, scandalized.

"You know I'm not into jewelry, darlin'. This is perfect," I smooth Nudge's bedhead down while she pouts.

Just then, a beam of light appears on the ceiling. I look down the trapdoor.

"Mom? What are you doing out here? It's like one in the morning!" I ask, surprised. She's wearing her headlamp (she is freaking obsessed with that thing. She once wrote a song about it to the tune of My Headband from Glee) and has her robe wrapped around her.

"Well, I heard a commotion. Did you expect me not to investigate?" she yawns. "Why's everyone so happy?"

I hold up my hand once again. "Fang and I are getting married, Mom." I beam.

"Oh, Max!" my mom exclaims, and embraces me.

"No funny business with the wedding plans, or I'll elope," I threaten, patting her back.

Nudge shouts, "I call being the wedding planner! C'mon Ella, we've got so much to do!" They flop down on the floor and babble excitedly.

I groan, but decide to fight that battle later.

"We'll go out to brunch to celebrate in the morning, okay, sweetie? I'm headed back to bed, if I can stay awake long enough to make it down the ladder," Mom says as she lumbers down the trapdoor.

"Night, Mom! Love you!" I call after her.

The Flock plops back down on the floor and promptly falls back asleep. I tell Ella and Nudge to shut it, and the night is quiet again.

Fang holds out his arms and makes a face that says "Join me?" I shimmy back into the blankets and he folds me in his arms. Our bodies are flush from head to toe.

"Goodnight, my dearest," Fang whispers. Pfft, being engaged has made him sappy.

I press my lips to his for a lingering moment.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," I whisper back. And then, I snuggle even closer to Fang and fall asleep in the arms of my fiancé.


End file.
